


The Most Pig-Headed Person I Know

by Small_Hobbit



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 15:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16495640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: Given the number of times one or other of them is hurt in the course of their work, Finch has a plan to at least ensure they can get some sleep.





	The Most Pig-Headed Person I Know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ratbat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratbat/gifts).



“Harold, you need to rest,” John Reese said firmly.  “There’s nothing more you can do.  NYPD are on top of things, and Lionel will let us know if there’s anything we should be aware of.”

“I’m concerned they will miss something,” Finch said.  He struggled to sit up and tried to disguise the sudden intake of breath at the stab of pain in his back.

It was a wasted effort.  Reese instantly spotted his expression and said, “You’re doing yourself no favors by trying to get up.  All the walking you did the last couple of days has only made things worse.  I know why you insisted on walking instead of driving, and I agree it did make it a difference, but I’m still not convinced it was a good idea.”

“I’ll be all right.  I can take a painkiller and carry on.”

“The only sort of painkiller you should be taking is one of those which knock you out completely.  Otherwise you’re just going to make things worse.  What was it you said to me the other week, ‘If you rest your leg today, you should be able to run again tomorrow; if you run on it today, it’ll take you three days to recover’?”

“And I was right.  But that was a short-term injury.  I’m always going to have this.”

“And therefore,” Finch couldn’t help but admire the triumphant expression on Reese’s face, “you have had long enough to know that what I’m saying is right.”

“All right,” Finch said, “I will take one of the painkillers you mention.  But promise me you won’t go out and do anything remotely dangerous while I’m asleep.”

“I have no intention of leaving you at all while you sleep,” Reese replied.  “I’ll make up a camp bed in here.”

“That won’t be necessary.  I appreciate it is impractical for us to share a bed when I’m like this, but there’s nothing to stop you sleeping in the spare room.  I can assure you I won’t come to any harm.  And you will sleep far better in a proper bed than on that old camp bed.”

Reese muttered something under his breath.

Finch pulled a wry smile and added, “Do I take it you believe you won’t sleep as well if you are in a different room than if you are on the battered camp bed?”

Reese nodded.

Finch sighed and said, “Oh very well then.  But if you’re going to be so pig-headed, then I think we should look at getting a suitable replacement.”

***

A few days later Finch was sufficiently well-recovered to move around the library without any sign of discomfort.  However, the weather had turned unpleasant, and the heavy rain had rendered the sidewalks slippery, and Finch had been forced to agree with Reese it would be better if he remained indoors rather than risk falling in the inclement weather. 

This hadn’t prevented the machine providing a number, but fortunately it was one where Reese was able to follow the man while Finch had investigated the background from the warmth of the library.  In the end, a few words from Reese and the man had realised how much he stood to lose by acting out his intentions and had decided to change his plans.  It might have helped that Reese had been holding the man in armlock as he shared the few words.  It wasn’t a method of which Finch approved, but sometimes it did seem to work.

By the time Reese returned to the library, he was looking a little like a drowned rat, the heavens having decided to open when he was three blocks away.  He stood just inside the doorway and dripped.

“Mr Reese,” Finch said.  “Kindly step out of your clothes where you are, and do not drip all over the carpet.  And then go and shower.”

Reese did as instructed, removing his clothes, and leaving them in a soggy pile, before walking naked through the library to the shower.  “I’m sure I could have undressed in the bathroom,” Reese said.  “I’m going to leave wet footprints on the carpet anyway.”

“True,” Finch agreed.  “But then I wouldn’t have been able to admire you as you went past.”

Once showered and wrapped in a large fluffy towel, Reese went into the bedroom to find some dry clothes.  Finch heard his exclamation as he entered the bedroom and went to join him.

“There’s a new sofa in our bedroom,” Reese said.

“Indeed,” Finch replied.  “It’s a big room, there’s plenty of space for it.”

“But why?  We don’t need a sofa in our bedroom.”

“I thought perhaps we could sit and cuddle on it before going to bed.”  Reese raised an eyebrow and Finch laughed, before adding, “Although it is in fact a sofa bed.  Watch!”

Finch pressed a button and the various components of the sofa rearranged themselves into a single bed.  It even came complete with sheet, pillow and duvet.

“So this way, Mr Reese, the next time you are determined to keep an eye on me overnight, you can still have a comfortable night’s sleep,” Finch said. 

“It’s not necessary,” Reese replied.  “I really don’t mind sleeping on the camp bed.”

“Maybe I feel happier knowing that you have a proper bed, which means I sleep better because I am not worrying about you.  You would have to agree that’s a good thing.”

“I suppose so,” Reese grumbled.  “I’ll have to now, because there isn’t room to put up the camp bed with the sofa there.”

“I knew you’d come around to my way of thinking.”

***

Finch drove as fast as he dared.  It was another wet night, which meant even those people who would normally have walked had resorted to using their vehicles, and there was a regular stream of cabs ferrying passengers who hadn’t wanted even a short walk.

Finch supposed the weather was good news for the cab drivers, although there was one driver who had turned out to be thoroughly bad news.  Reese had been trying to catch up with their latest number and had flagged down a taxi to take him to his destination.  The taxi had swerved in to pick up a group slightly before him, but a second taxi had seen him and pulled over.  A moment’s inattention as Reese got in, in hindsight probably deliberately caused by the group who had taken the first cab, and the taxi’s doors were locked, and Reese was being conveyed in a totally different direction from the one he had wanted.

Reese had tried to grab the steering wheel, but the driver had been ready for him, expertly wielding a knife one-handed while he steered the vehicle with the other hand.  He had taken them down a few dark streets before stopping and jumping out of the cab and abandoning it, and Reese, in a mostly deserted parking garage.

Finch, who had been tracking Reese’s movements, had been alerted when he did not go in the expected direction.  He had been unable to raise Reese but had followed the route he was travelling in.  So, when he had finally made contact with Reese he had instructed him to remain where he was and driven to meet him.

When Finch arrived, he found Reese had applied temporary bandages to his wounds, although the blood was already seeping through.  Finch helped Reese into his car and then drove back to the library.  Reese stumbled up the stairs, spurning Finch’s assistance, and Finch followed him, directing him to go straight to the spare bedroom.

That Reese did as instructed only confirmed Finch in his belief of the seriousness of his injuries.  Ordinarily Reese would have maintained he was fine and told Finch not to fuss.  Finch collected up his first aid kit and carried it into the spare bedroom.

Reese had a nasty gash on his side, together with a number of other minor injuries.  Finch cleaned the wound, then carefully sewed it up and covered it with a large dressing which he secured with a bandage.  Then he turned his attention to the smaller wounds.

“I can see to those,” Reese said.

“Please tell me how you propose bandaging a wound on the back of your right thigh without twisting your left side and dislodging all my hard work.” Finch replied.

“I can sit up and then move slowly.”

“It would almost be worth it, just to see how much of a knot you tied yourself in and whether or not you fell off the bed in the process.  However, I haven’t spent the last half hour painstakingly sewing you up to see my beautiful stitches pulled asunder by your nosedive onto the floor.  You will therefore lie still and let me get on with it.”

Reese made a face, but Finch was glad he hadn’t continued to argue.  No doubt he was saving his breath for the next part of the battle.  He was.

“All done,” Finch said.  “If I help you, can you walk to our bedroom?”

“I’ll sleep here tonight.  If we share a bed I know you’ll try and lie still so as not to hurt me and that’ll make your back ache tomorrow.”

“Please, John, I’d prefer it if you were in our bedroom.”

“No!”  Reese shut his eyes and looked as though he was going to sleep.

“Very well,” Finch said, and left the bedroom.  He returned a few minutes later carrying a duvet.

Reese opened his eyes again.  “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I shall spend the night in the chair.  Don’t worry, I’m not planning on sleeping in it, but the duvet will keep me warm.”

“You are the most pig-headed person I know,” Reese grumbled.

“I could say the same about you!”

Reese snorted and slowly began to sit up.  “If I take it slowly, I’ll make it to the bedroom on my own.  At least let me do that.”

“All right.  But I will be following you.”

“Of course,” Reese sighed.  He stood up and shuffled through to the bedroom, where he sank down onto the bed.  Finch carefully checked the bandaging had stayed in place.

“Where are you going to sleep?” Reese asked.

“Here!”  Finch pressed the button and the sofa became a bed. 

Reese looked at Finch and smiled.  “That was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” he said.

“It had occurred to me as having a certain possibility,” Finch agreed.  “And the balance of probability meant I would be the one using this as a bed, so I made sure it would meet my needs.”

“In which case,” Reese replied, “I shall be only too happy to stretch out here.”

Finch waited until he was sure Reese was properly asleep before getting into the bed.  He lay for a few minutes, his mind active; there were things which needed checking, areas which should be tightened up.  But for the moment Reese was the most important concern, and the best thing Finch could do was get some sleep.

A few hours later, Finch was woken by the sound of Reese moaning.  Initially, he thought the other man was in pain, and he sat up ready to go find some painkillers.  But then he realised Reese was still asleep although dreaming.

Finch was aware Reese had nightmares, and normally when Finch had been woken because of them he would move around sufficiently to cause Reese to stir, waking him just enough to pull him out of the nightmare.  In fact, recently Finch had discovered the most effective way was to pull the covers off Reese which caused him to roll towards the warmth and therefore break the dream.

This time, Finch was reluctant to use those tactics, since any movement might increase Reese’s physical pain and possibly make the injuries worse.  Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on Reese’s shoulder.  He uttered soft reassuring noises and was relieved when Reese moved slightly towards him and seemed to calm a little.  Finch stayed as he was, and after a time Reese gave a soft sigh and seemed to relax.  Satisfied this nightmare was over, Finch carefully stood up and returned to his own bed.

When Finch woke in the morning, he was surprised at how bright it was; he’d clearly slept longer than he’d expected.  He opened his eyes, to find Reese looking at him.

“I like this arrangement,” Reese said.  “I haven’t slept so well the night after being injured for many years.”

Finch smirked.  “I told you it was a good idea!”

 


End file.
